


Collateral

by FabuMazX



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Torture, but figured better to be safe, the second chapter is happier i promise, the violence isn't too descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-13 18:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabuMazX/pseuds/FabuMazX
Summary: Bruce woke up as a father of four. Somehow, not twenty-four hours later, he's not even a parent anymore.Ten minutes. Had he been ten minutes earlier; maybe his sons would still be alive.





	1. Collateral

He could practically feel his heart pounding as he smashed against the door. With foot. With shoulder. He was willing to slam into it head-first if need be. He just knew- four important lives rested on him getting through.

There was silence on the other side of the cold, metal door, and it only made his blood run colder. There are those who would say this was out of character. After all, what was there that could make the rock-solid Batman flinch? But despite the icy outer shell, even Bruce Wayne had his fears; those he feared for. His kids. Their annoying quirks and brilliant habits. The dark hair and blue eyes and fiery spirit they all shared. Shared blood had never meant a damn thing in the Wayne family.

As the faces of each went through his mind, he felt suddenly fuelled and he threw his shoulder into the door. The clank on the other side told him that the bolt had given way, and the door flung open with a shocked creek.

Bruce staggered in, the darkness engulfing him- once it provided comfort, but now it felt cruel and suffocating. 

However as the dawn light rose outside, seeping in through the doorway, he saw what had become of his boys. And he wanted to fall down and weep beside them.

He let his horrified gaze wonder over each. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damain Wayne. All four of them. All four of their still young faces were bruised, bloody. None of them moved and as much as he tried to assure himself that it was because of exhaustion-that they'd raise their heads and sigh with relief when they saw him, maybe fall into their usual bickering over who's fault it was that they were in this mess- he knew that was not the case.

He knelt down by Damian first, and held back the tears in his eyes. His relationship with the boy had never been the most stable. He'd barely been there for him, but Damian was his true son- biological. And God knew he loved him as much as any of them. Seeing him like this, the youngest of the boys, was enough to reduce the Dark Knight to tears. He stroked Robin's short, dark, dusty hair softly, feeling blood soak his glove, "I'm so sorry son...I'm so sorry..."  
He looked so small. A child; just a child.

Bruce looked over at Jason, who lay slumped against the wall close by. A single bullet shot in his forehead; a mercifully abrupt end at least. Despite his grief, the detective in Bruce tirelessly analysed the situation. The others appeared to have been beaten down, or some other method that would be long and suffering. He slowly placed the pieces together, and came to the conclusion. The blood-splattered knife beside the man's open palm, the way his shoulders were still bunched and taut as if ready to lunge. It seemed that he'd just been too much of a task to hesitate in killing. Bruce would have been proud if not for his heart being torn apart. It would be Jason- the last to give up, the one who would never sit quietly despite the risk.  
Twice he had lost him. Failed him. And this time there wasn't a second chance in sight. 

He got up slowly, tearing himself away from the two. In his blindly sorrowed state, he almost tripped over a third body, and bit his lip as he looked down to find himself looking at the back of Tim-lying face down on the floor with a small pool of blood around his head. Taking a deep breath, Bruce bent down and rolled over his third son slowly, but he instantly regretted it. It took only a second to recognise the gash on Drake's temple, a second more to acknowledge that there was no way that he could still be alive judging by the depth and brutality of the wound. Bruce wheezed out a pained breath as he stared into the glazed pale blue eyes that once held such enthusiasm and intelligence. Gently, he closed them with two fingers while his brain tried desperately to imprint those eyes in his memory.

"Bruce...Bruce..."

He whirled around at the familiar, weak voice.

"Dick!?"

He quickly noticed his eldest's athletic form huddled in the shadows of the corner, lying on his side with his back to Bruce. Dick's voice was small, weak, and his whimper grew into a desperate pining.

Bruce rushed over and knelt by his son, "I'm here Dick! I'm right here! Thank God you're okay!" he sighed.

Dick shivered, everything about him screaming out fear and pain, "Y-You are...?"  
"Yeah Dick." Bruce said with a small smile, "I promise you I'm here."  
When Dick tried to lift his head, Bruce held in a gasp. The poor boy's once striking blue eyes were murky and bloodshot and the skin around both was black and swollen.

"I...I can't see. Bruce...B-Bruce why can't I see...?" Dick whimpered, trying to look around and find the man.

Bruce rubbed Dick's shoulder gently, "Shh. Relax. You're injured, you have to rest until you get some help." he instructed, trying to stop his voice shaking.

Dick relaxed slowly, but more out of exhaustion and pain than willingness. Bruce could feel his uneven heartbeat, and it was slowing.

"The others...Where are they?" Dick rasped.

Bruce swallowed back the tears, "They...They're..." he sighed. He wanted to lie, but this was Dick Grayson- Nightwing -The first Robin, and he could read him like a book. Even blind. "They're gone Dick."

Dick blinked his unseeing eyes slowly, then shivered, "I'm sorry." he whimpered, beginning to sob, "I'm sorry!"

"Dick- it isn't your fault." Bruce assured him, feeling his own tears start to spill again.

"It is! I'm their brother...I was supposed to keep them safe." Dick wheezed. It was clear that every shudder that went through his battered body was only increasing the pain.

Bruce took a long breath, "Dick...it isn't your fault." he hushed softly, "I promise you, it isn't your fault."  
Dick's sobbing slowly subsided, and he was quiet for a few moments before speaking softly, "Am I gonna die too?"  
Bruce blinked, "No." he shook his head stubbornly, "No!"  
"You're lying Bruce..."

"I'm not!"

"I always know when you're lying."  
Bruce choked out a sob of a chuckle as Dick flashed a weak smile. It was gone as quickly as it came when reality set in once more, "I...I don't want to go..."  
"You don't need to! You just have to hang on a little longer, you hear me?!"  
"But then who'd look after the others?" Dick joked hoarsely, "They'd tear each over apart without me there."

Bruce smiled softly, cradling his eldest in his arms protectively.

"You won't leave me...right? Not till..."  
Bruce clenched his teeth in grief, "No. I won't leave you."  
Dick breathed out a sigh of relief and his shoulders released the tension that had consumed them.

"I love you Dad."  
Bruce winced, love and grief possessing his body at the same time, clashing for dominance.

"I love you too son. Y-You keep an eye on them for me okay? Just till I get there."

Dick smiled half-heartedly, "Just till you get there..." he repeated quietly.

Bruce stroked his eldest's dark hair softly, and there was silence except for Dick's ragged breaths. And when that awful silence fell upon him, The Dark Knight crumbled and wailed over his child's body.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Justice League to arrive. When they realised that the man couldn't be moved from where he was, it took Superman to pull him away while Bruce wailed and fought desperately against the Kryptonian. Clark just did his best to keep the lump in his throat down and not look at what had become of the Wayne boys he watched grow up.

And Bruce; his world had fallen apart.


	2. Aftermath

Time passed, and Bruce hadn't left the manor once since he lost his boys. Not even his room. Alfred would poke his head through the door occasionally, only to sigh in sorrow as he saw the younger man slouched at his desk staring out the window blankly.  
The butler practically felt the wave of grief that radiated off of Bruce when he opened the door, felt the way it crashed against his own pain- and it was overwhelming. It had killed him to see the four young masters brought back, hanging limply in the arms of a solemn Justice League.

The funeral had been difficult. It was bad enough to lose one of the boys, but all four? All at once? He was surprised his ageing body hadn't buckled under the heaviness. Then again he still wasn't sure he wouldn't break down soon.  
It was only for Bruce that he stayed strong. Alfred could remember back to when each had been brought in, way back to when Master Richard had been but a newly orphaned child. He had watched them grow, each taking on the Robin persona, then their own. Nightwing, Red Hood and Drake. And he had loved them all, loved them more than life. Of course, he didn't pretend he felt the same grief as Bruce. Of course he was hurting, terribly in fact, but he wasn't the one who had taken these boys in and raised them as a father.

Outside it seemed that all Hell was breaking loose. The city's criminal underworld hadn't taken long to get wind of the loss of not one but effectively five vigilantes, and they were quick to take advantage of their newfound freedom. Bruce hadn't so much as glanced to the elevator to the Bat cave even as reports of rising crime rambled on from the tv in the background, unheard.  
Alfred had always thought he'd celebrate the day the man decided to retire the cowl and give up the vigilante lifestyle. Little had he known that the very day would be the worst of their lives.

And Bruce, he had never felt such grief in his life. A joint funeral was held not long after he lost them. Gotham's press were as quick as its criminals, and it was inevitable that they flooded the scene with flashing cameras, intimate questions and false cries of grief. A car crash was their cover up. A tragic accident. It sounded weak to Bruce, but apparently the public were taking the bait and he hadn't exactly been paying too much attention to the carefully crafted details the League had put together on his behalf. If they noticed, they didn't say anything.

He hadn't cried. In fact, he hadn't felt anything. He just couldn't believe that he was stood there, before the four graves of his sons. He had always expected that it would be them standing before his. But after it was all said and done, after the clouds rolled in and even the hyenas had fled from the downpour, he broke. He fell to his knees before the stones of his children, and he sobbed for hours. The boys who brought colour back into his life were gone. 

That night, his dreams were filled with shadows...

Their voices echoed in his mind, screaming, crying.

As he struggled through the darkness, he came to a faint patch of light. He gasped as he saw the huddled figure with its back to him, and his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the form.

"Damian?!"

A faint sobbing filled his ears, and he took a step closer, "Damian? Robin?"

Suddenly, the boy whirled around, and Bruce recoiled in horror. Blood dripped down his young face from an obvious gash in his head, his mask had been torn away and lay at his knees, revealing a child paralysed by terror.

"Don't come any closer!"  
Bruce's eyes widened, "Damian, what are you talking-"  
"Stay away! I'll hurt you! I swear it!"  
Bruce realised the boy was staring past him, but when he turned there was nobody there. Damian was starting to scramble backwards, dragging himself with his hands while a broken leg trailed after limply. He suddenly jolted as though from a jarring blow.

"LEAVE HIM!"  
Bruce jumped as Jason's furious yell echoed through the darkness, and he saw the young man suddenly appear crawling from the shadows. Blood soaked his beige jacket and his bruised face was twisted in rage. He seemed to struggle against something as Damian writhed on the ground through his unseen attack. Suddenly, Jason staggered to his feet, racing towards his brother...when a bullet shot echoed through the air, stopping him. Bruce whirled around to see the source, but still nobody. He watched in horror as Jason stumbled, a faint trickle of scarlet sliding down his already bloody face. He staggered backwards, hitting a wall that wasn't there, and slumped to the ground motionless. Damian stopped moving soon after, his final wail of pain cut off abruptly.

"No...No!" A faint wailing made Bruce tear himself away, only to see Tim thrown to the ground face-down. He jolted slightly, moaning as his back was pushed down as though somebody was stepping on him. He grunted as an unseen bat smashed against his head multiple times until eventually, clearly already exhausted, the boy lay still and stopped fighting, and let a final blow end him. Bruce watched his blue eyes slowly become murky, glazing over as the life seeped out of him.

Bruce whimpered and staggered away, but the three bodies of his sons lay littered around him. He turned to run, but staggered and chocked on a gasp as he found Dick gripping his leg with one hand with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Bruce..." he rasped, and the older man reared back in shock as the younger's piercing blue gaze locked with his own.

Dick wretched briefly, blood splattering the ground before he looked up, his eyes teary with pain and exhaustion, "Bruce..I-I'm sorry...I couldn't protect them...I-" He coughed again, more blood escaping his lips, "I...I wasn't strong enough...I'm sorry..." he wretched feebly, his eyes slowly turning to a grey mist, before dropping his head again, and Bruce felt his grip on his ankle weaken, then going limp.

Bruce whimpered in horror, staring at the four bodies around him, surrounding him. He couldn't escape. Everywhere he turned, there was a body; one of his children. His heart pounded, his limbs shook, tears were in his eyes.  
He felt that the pure grief would overwhelm him when in his peripheral he caught something. A light, stark against the endless darkness. The four bodies disappeared in a flurry of black sand and fog as the light abruptly blasted through the darkness, and Bruce gasped as he made out four silhouettes bold against the rays.

"I...It can't be..." he whispered.

But it was. He stared as his sons, all four, walking towards him. He expected some great terror to appear next, but none came. He was just face to face with his boys, and they looked...happy. Four pairs of bright, brilliant, blue eyes.

Tim had the usual beaming smile on his face, Damian that tight grin, Dick with his lopsided smirk and Jason with that cocky leer.

"Some of us didn't get to say goodbye." Tim said with a shrug.

Bruce shivered, "b-but you're dead." reality hit again like a train, "I-I'm dreaming."  
Dick nodded, "Yeah, you are. But it doesn't mean we aren't here."

"I...I don't understand."

"You don't have to. We're here, and we'll always be here."

Bruce swallowed hard, "But...I need you. All of you! I can't live without you."  
"Dad, we're not going anywhere." Damian scoffed, tilting his head in that endearing way he always had when he was analysing your every movement.

"We're still with you Bruce." Dick insisted, smiling fondly, "And we always will be."  
"Till you die aged over 80 preferably, then you're stuck with us permanently." Jason grunted with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce smiled lightly, tears in his eyes. As though sensing it, surprisingly Damian launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around his father, "I love you Dad." he said quietly.

Bruce laughed gently, "I love you too Damian. More than anything in the world. I'm sorry I didn't tell you enough before..." he looked up, "All of you."  
Jason's sharp eyes softened, "Same for you old man."

Tim grinned, "You're our dad, Bruce. We know."

"But when you needed me..." Bruce sighed, a lump in his throat, "I failed you...what kind of father-"  
He felt Dick place a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Wrong. You were there for all of us when we needed you. Without you, I'd be an orphan god knows where. We'd all be different."  
"And I like being me- screwed up or not; I'm a delight." Jason said.

"Or not." Tim quipped back with folded arms.  
Jason just smirked at the smaller boy, ruffling his short dark hair roughly, "Shut it, Replacement."  
"We wouldn't be a family." Damien stated bluntly, the weight of the words odd against his childlike face and voice. But that was Damian. His little boy.  
Bruce let his gaze linger over them all just as everything began to fade. His heartbeat quickened, but this goodbye felt...easier.

"You can let go Bruce. We'll be here waiting." Dick murmured softly, pulling Damian against his side where the boy nestled closer without protest.

Bruce grinned, "Take care of each other." he said lowly, and then reality was gently pulling him back.

But he kept that image of his boys in his head. Smiling, careless, not a seed of conflict within them. Peaceful. The pain never completely went away, and the day he finally put on the cowl again he felt the wound pull and itch like an old scar. But he could never regret taking in those boys. They changed him, and for the better.

The outside world thought Bruce Wayne rattled around a mansion too big for the man who had everything and lost it all. But he knew. He still had four boys, he would never stop being their father. So damn the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make soooo many changes to this chapter because it was painfully cringey. Apparently 14-year-old me wasn't very savvy with subtlety and undertones.   
Overall I think I managed to salvage it enough to make it palatable. 
> 
> I hope everybody enjoyed this piece; there's not enough Batfamily works that actually focus on 'family'.   
Kudos and feedback would be greatly appreciated x

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to note; I wrote this way back in 2014 when I was literally 14 so I apologise for the fact that some bits probably make zero sense. I've done my best to go through it and salvage some bits where I can.
> 
> I originally uploaded it to fanfiction.net and figured I may as well transfer it over here given that it was my most popular story over there. 
> 
> ALSO MOST IMPORTANTLY let it be known that I used the "I don't want to go" line before Infinity War and I'm gonna flaunt that.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it and any kudos would be appreciated.


End file.
